A Fool's Affair
by It'sWorthAShot
Summary: "There's no problem that can't be solved," I said aloud to the silence of my bedroom, trying to put my thoughts into words. "I'm a firm believer in that. With patience, and logic, and cooperation…" I struck a half-hearted Good Guy pose, "Anyone can be anything." Well, that was great and all… but how the hell was I supposed to write a plot from it? DISCONTINUED, sorry guys.
1. The Clock Read Four Thirty-Seven

**Warnings:** Some coarse language.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Naruto. Kishimoto and affiliated companies do.

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

The clock read 4:37 am. Curled up in bed with my laptop, I stared blearily at the illuminated screen, fingers at rest against the keys.

I wanted to write a character that people could relate to – this, I knew. Someone happy and normal. But the problem that had kept me awake 'til the crack of dawn on a Monday morning was one I'd been struggling with for years now.

The fact was, a person like that ( _like me?_ ) didn't _have_ problems, didn't see life like that. For them ( _me?_ ), life wasn't full of obstacles and barriers, or existential drama, or melodramatic relationship angst. It was people's attitudes that made things difficult; life was just… _life_.

"There's no problem that can't be solved," I said aloud to the silence of my bedroom, trying to put my thoughts into words. "I'm a firm believer in that. With patience, and logic, and cooperation…" I struck a half-hearted Good Guy pose, "Anyone can be anything."

Well, that was great and all… but how the hell was I supposed to write a plot from it?

"Plot, plot, plot…" I mumbled restlessly. "Come on, brain…"

 _Damnit, I think better out loud._

"Okay," I declared, "let's start at the beginning. Naruto fanfic: setting the scene here… Um. There's a girl- wait. Should I make it a reincarnation fic or not? I mean, it's a bit overdone… there's only so many ways to write growing up. And either way I run the risk of Mary Sue-ing…"

I made a face. "Damnit, this is hard."

The room stayed agreeably silent. "But I _wanna_ write," I whined. "Other people make it look so easy, but I can't even get past the first damned _chapter_ …"

I thought of my Stories folder, of the fifty-odd fanfics from various fandoms and in varying stages of abandonment, and winced. "Yeeeaah…"

I didn't even know what the problem was – well, yeah, I did, but… it was a long story.

"A _long story_ ," I joked. "Hah." _I wish._

But it was. See, I had… a _very_ short attention span. Like, the phrase _attention span of a teaspoon_ was actually applicable here. Oh, don't get me wrong, I was capable of focus – intense focus, in fact! But that was only provided that I had direction, an aim. Without that kind of mental tether… well. My inability to finish even a simple one-shot was testament to my struggle.

Except it wasn't a big problem; I was a happy person who didn't get angry at things for no reason and… also didn't have the attention span to stay angry for longer than a few seconds.

… _Huh._

I blinked.

 _That… actually explains a lot._

"Um-" I shook myself out my stupor, "sooo…. ideas!" Silence. "…I don't have them." Another silence, more stilted. "…Goddamnit!"

I snapped the laptop shut and stalked out of my room, hopping over the piles of crap of the floor with the ease of long practice. "I am actually _annoyed_ now," I ranted to the walls, irrationally annoyed at _being_ annoyed. "I'm not supposed to _get_ annoyed-" I cut myself off with a snort. " _Fuck_. What a load of crap. Of course I get annoyed. I just don't get annoyed at _people_ , I think. I mean, I'm annoyed at me – but that doesn't count! And, I think out loud _all the fucking time,_ how annoying is that?"

I stormed into the kitchenette, hands flailing as I tried to release my frustration.

" _Why_ do I have to think aloud? No-one else does. Okay, that's a lie; people probably do. But at least their out loud-thinking makes _sense! Why am I even talking about this?_ Goddamnit, brain! It's four in the fricking morning – SHUT UP!"

Overcome by bubbling resentment, I threw myself down in a corner between two cupboards and wedged myself in tight, drawing my knees up to my chest as I buried my face in my hands.

" _Shut up,"_ I hissed. "Just shut up…"

My eyes burned, but no tears fell.

"…Tiredness," I identified dully after a moment. "I should sleep." But I made no move to get up. "I'm not going to," I noted, and immediately my mind cast itself forward and backward in time, recalling similar situations in which I had soon succumbed to exhaustion and predicting the course of the next few minutes. "Will. Soon." Not an appeasement; an acknowledgement of truth.

 _How is this my life?_ I wondered, staring blank-eyed up at the green-lit clock on the microwave interface. Four forty-two. _Late-early. Should sleep._

There was nothing for it, so, "Get up," I commanded, echoing the voice of reason in my brain. Without giving myself a chance to reply-"I'm up," I agreed, standing robotically, one small motion at a time. I began walking back to my room, mind still blessedly blank.

I sat down on the bed, removed the laptop – "Charge," I reminded myself - and put it on charger. Then I lay flat on my back, pulled the covers up stiffly, and closed my eyes. _Seven deep breaths. Muscles relax._

Sleep took me.

…

When I awoke, I was not in my bed- and more importantly, it did not feel like a second had passed since I'd closed my eyes.

I sat up, stared out of the alleyway at the bustling dirt street, packed with people dressed in traditional Japanese clothing.

"This is not…" I observed, voice trailing off as the word evaded me and I felt no need to chase it. _Home-bed-good-safe-right,_ was the impression it left.

I crouched, dreamlike. "Where am…?" _Dream?_

Note: _too bright-too solid-too focused-I can think-_ realisation hit.

"Not a dream."

As the words, fallen dully from my mouth, were finally interpreted in my brain, a switch flicked. Adrenaline and terror flooded my system- and suddenly I was _wide awake_.

"Oh, _shit!_ What- _what the fuck?!_ What's going- where-?"

I could feel my pulse in my fingertips where they dug into the dirt- _fight or flight instinct,_ half of my brain pointed out curiously, recalling a TED talk. The other half was screaming.

 _What-what-_ _ **what**_ _-where-why-how-_ _ **WHAT NOW?**_ _What next?_

 _Breathe._

Suddenly, I remembered how to breathe- and choked, hacking in deep lungfuls of air, glorious, glorious air. _Too cold-too clear-no pollution-countryside?-equator, far from equator is colder- or winter?-how to know?-no-don't know-ASK._

My brain fixated on that final point. _Ask._ I should ask. Someone. Anyone.

Standing gracefully (because motor function was not inhibited by mental function- _or was it?-curious…-NO. FOCUS. ASK_ ), I strode out onto the street, right up to the nearest person ( _middle-aged woman, obese, too much makeup_ ) and tapped her on the shoulder.

"Excuse me," I said, and stopped. _How to ask-can't think-straightforward-_ "I'm lost. Where- what is this place?"

 _Further proof that motor function not inhibited- NO._

The woman turned, looking cheerful. "This is the markets, dearie. Where did you come from? Maybe I can point you back?"

"No, I-" _Markets?_ "Um, which markets? Sorry." _Still polite- must be ingrained habit, interesting-_

She laughed. "Which markets?" She repeated. "There's only one marketplace in Konoha, child."

 _Konoha._ _ **Konoha?**_ _No-not possible-coincidence?-moving in sleep not possible either-familiar-like fanfiction?-NOT POSSIBLE. Must be explanation (another)._

"Konoha?" I asked in a small voice. The lady's expression turned concerned. "Yes, that's- are you not from Konoha?"

Mutely, I shook my head. _Not here-not home-_ _ **home**_ _-warmth-safety-HOME-_ God, I wanted-

She frowned. "Oh dear… well, I'm not sure- how did you get here then?"

I shrugged helplessly. "I-"

I never got the chance to explain.

At that moment, the woman was snatched away by a blur- I flinched, reacting to block an attack that never came- and deposited, wide eyed, across the street. Men in black uniforms, masked- _ANBU, oh god-_ dropped from the roofs, encircling me.

Wide-eyed, I shrank in on myself, every muscling coiling in preparation to- run? Fight? _(Like I would stand a chance)_ I didn't even know. My brain was still frozen in shock: one part jerkily taking stock, re-evaluating the situation ( _Konoha,_ _**that**_ _Konoha-real-REAL-ANBU-DANGER-_ _ **WHAT NEXT? FOCUS**_ _),_ the other, like the terrified child ( _that I was_ ), whimpering _what-_ _ **what are they doing?-**_ _I'm scared-help-_

Pulled in two directions, my right hand spasmed, jerking and-

A blow met my temple- _ANBU-young-trigger happy-_

I dropped like a stone.

* * *

 **A/N: What do you think? Does it have potential? Please read and review!**


	2. Rip The Future Off Its Rails

**Warnings:** Some coarse language.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Naruto. Kishimoto and affiliated companies do.

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

There were a number of different ways that people tended to wake up.

Some, like my mother, slept like logs and required a good five minutes of nagging to get out of bed. Some, like my brother, stayed up until dawn playing computer games and could not physically be woken before midday, not even by the smoke alarm (yes, I knew this from experience). Some, like my dad, were super-workaholics who jumped out of bed at four-thirty in the morning all ready and pumped for work. Some lucky people, like most of my friends, were just normal.

And then there was me.

Yeah, I know – did I have to be so contrary all the time? …The answer? Well, _yes_. Because I had a stupidly hyperactive brain, and it didn't like to do things the normal, easy way. It liked to be _special._ It liked to be _fast,_ and _efficient._

So it was that every morning, without fail, my dad would get up (at _4:30 am_ , remember. This is important), pass near-silently by my door, open his mouth to speak and-

" _I'm awake,"_ I would say calmly, sitting up as I snapped – in that _split second_ – from sleeping like the dead to perfectly awake and aware of the situation. A bit strange in itself, but… reasonable. The _odd_ thing? It wasn't the noise that woke me. Dad was a taekwondo black belt, like me – light on his feet.

No, what woke me was his _presence._

I couldn't explain it, hadn't been able to teach it when I tried. It was like… there was this… sense of _compactness_ in the air where people were, almost heavy – but I was the only one who could feel it.

Hold that thought.

…

"I'm awake," I announced quietly, sitting up in my cell. I was on the floor and my temple ached _(bruised-no blood-ANBU knockout) –_ my mild concern was dismissed as irrelevant.

Another fluid strain of thought passed through my mind. _Not restrained-they're wary, but uncertain-I'm innocent-will cooperate-help-_ _ **get home**_ _._

I blinked slowly, satisfied with the plan for now. Getting home was the main objective; everything else was secondary.

The next issue worth contemplating, while I waited for the person who had just halted on the other side of the door to make their move, was how exactly the ANBU had found me, and _why_ they'd been sent after me at all.

Now, if this was a fanfiction, I would have said there'd been some kind of… chakra pulse from the transition that had been picked up by sensor types and caused alarm. Of course, I (1) could not use chakra, and (2) had been asleep. I hesitated _(chakra's_ _ **not real**_ _-Konoha-_ _ **must**_ _be real-_ and felt in that moment a crossroads before me. _Fear? Curiosity? Excitement?_ What was I supposed to choose? _Best option?_ I wondered. _Acceptance-temporarily-explore later,_ I decided), but it lasted for less than a fraction of a second.

So if it wasn't a chakra pulse – although I couldn't rule out that the chakra had come from another source ( _does chakra linger_ _on people? Or areas?)_ – how had they honed in on me so fast?

Perhaps my appearance, I pondered, examining myself in the mirror-wall that undoubtedly doubled as a viewing window ( _cliché, but no less effective)_. If this was indeed the Naruto canon world, as all evidence seemed to suggest (despite the sheer improbability of it), my blue European eyes and pale skin would perhaps stand out – though not nearly as much as in a true Japanese country, given that people here seemed to be some strange hybrid of western and eastern genes. My hair was a pale, unremarkable brown.

My shirt must have been the giveaway, I decided, frowning at the shiny blue writing on it; in a world without factories, all the clothes here would have been handmade, plain cotton and wool _(exception: Lee and Gai's spandex? Curious.)._ I didn't recall seeing printed shirts like mine anywhere in the series.

Still. That potentially explained how I'd been singled out from the crowd on the street, but why had they been searching in the first place? Evidently, there had been _some_ kind of signal when I arrived...

My thinking hit a wall.

… _Damnit,_ I thought, feeling a sense of déjà vu from the night before, _I think better out loud._

And I could have, if I wanted to - physically, there was nothing holding me back. But regardless of whether or not I intended to fully cooperate with my captors, sharing my innermost thoughts with them – even in jumbled, incomplete form – was a level of vulnerability I wasn't willing to reach.

Fortunately, I was saved from initiating a pointless circular argument with myself by the arrival of a second _presence_ outside my cell. My gaze lifted to the door, ears pricked for footsteps, voices, anything – but no sound breached the walls.

 _Or is there no sound because there's no_ _ **people?**_ The cynical, realistic part of my mind doubted, still – _after all these years_ – unwilling to entirely accept the veracity of the… admittedly, farfetched ability I'd _convinced_ myself I possessed- _NO._ I took a slow breath, relaxing the muscles that I'd unconsciously tensed.

 _I… don't like arguing with myself._

 _No point,_ I agreed. _More important things._

"Are you going to come in?" I called, done beating about the bush. The silence following my question was still and poignant, just long enough for me to start doubting myself again-

But then the door opened.

…

Below his skin, Yamanaka Hiro's chakra was churning. He was not sick, though his pale countenance might have suggested otherwise. No – the cause of his distress sat, unknowingly, on the other side of the cell's thick walls, unnervingly passive.

He heard footsteps approaching, and straightened. "Ibiki," he greeted, relieved.

"Hiro," the scarred Head of Department returned gruffly. "Any change?"

Hiro jerked his chin towards the cell. "She woke a few minutes ago." He shook his head, "Just… sat up and told me _"I'm awake"_ , cool as you please…" He risked a glance at the cell and found her gazing unerringly back at him. A chill ran down his spine. "Kami," he swore lowly. "I swear she knows we're here, but…"

"…But that shouldn't be possible," finished Ibiki, stepping right up to the window. He remained unflinching as the cell's occupant's calculating eyes flickered to him, and Hiro felt a hint of shame.

 _What's wrong with me today?_ He thought, stiffening his spine. He was a jounin, for kami's sake! One – okay, _creepy_ – kid should _not_ have had him so off-balance.

"It's unnerving, isn't it?" Ibiki said knowingly. "That emptiness."

The young sensor couldn't help the grimace that crossed his face. "Like someone's gone and torn a hole in space," he agreed, voice rough, "and if you get too close, it's gonna drag you in and tear you apart."

"Dramatic," Ibiki said, stepping away, "…but apt. I don't suppose the effect has receded at all since it appeared?"

Hiro hesitated, thinking back over the past few hours. Mostly, he'd been preoccupied with his own discomfort, but he thought he'd noticed a slight change in the… intensity. "It's shrinking," he theorised, "slowly. But… yes. Do you think-"

"Wait," Ibiki gestured for him to be silent, just in time for the girl's voice, amplified by the cell's seal array, to echo around them.

" _Are you going to come in?"_

Hardly daring to breathe, Hiro exchanged glances with his superior. The older man's face darkened, before a crooked smirk tugged at his lips.

"Well, Hiro? You heard the girl."

Hiro gulped.

…

 _That came out sounding a bit eerier than I meant it to_ , I mused sheepishly, observing the blond man as he stepped through the door. He was making a valiant effort to appear composed, but his face nevertheless resembled a corpse. An _ill_ corpse, at that.

"Sorry," I apologised earnestly, because I _was_ sorry and exceptional circumstances were no reason not to be polite. "Didn't mean to creep you out. I was just bored."

For some reason he didn't seem all that reassured.

" _Bored?"_ He choked out. "You're in a high-security prison, kid."

I blinked, bemused and at the same time irrationally the tiniest bit flattered. I was _dangerous_. _Heh._ "I'm high-security? What for?" They couldn't have been _that_ spooked, right?

(It suddenly occurred to me that I was still sitting on the floor, and it was quite uncomfortable craning my neck like this. Did I want to get up though? Briefly, I analysed the power dynamics and psychological effects of height difference, and how much I cared… _maa, can't be bothered.)_

"You're here," another voice growled, "because you're an anomaly." An imposing man with a face more scar-tissue than not leant in the doorway, arms crossed- _Ibiki Morino?_ I wondered, surprised. "An anomaly with a few too many _similarities_ to an Iwa technique that _levelled a town_ not so long ago."

My eyebrows shot up. "Like… a human bomb?" I tilted my head, considering the logistics of such a thing. "How would that even work? Hey, maybe if you compressed your chakra into a really, really, really tiny…" the word slipped away again, "-and then exploded it! Wait no, chakra by itself isn't lethal, or else people would get burnt… fire chakra? But I'm not sure it would technically _explode_ , I mean, the body probably has natural defences against that or people would be accidentally exploding all over the place. Especially in Konoha. Isn't this place mostly fire nature people? I think I read that somewhere-"

"Alright, that's enough," Ibiki interrupted, kicking the door closed with his heel. It slammed. "You're under arrest for a suspected terrorist plot. _This is not a game._ Are you going to cooperate? Or shall I find other means of _persuasion_?"

"Cooperate, sir," I answered immediately, blinking, doe-eyed. "You're very scary, did you know?" For once, this wasn't unfiltered babble. _Acknowledge your fear,_ I remembered my taekwondo master telling me once, before I went into my first international tournament. _Then conquer it._

Ibiki's eyebrows shot up. "Am I now…" he murmured, leaning forward into my space. "Funny. You don't sound scared."

"I am," I answered honestly, even though my heart was pounding. "Even though I know I'm innocent. I just want to get home."

"And where is _home_?"

I paused. _Well now. How to…_ "It's a bit more complicated than that. You won't believe me until you see proof."

I met his gaze evenly, fully prepared to impart all the knowledge I had. All the battles, all the secrets, all the deaths of the future- _oh shit, hold on…_ "Hey, what's the date?" _Oh, wait- "_ Uh… actually, how long since the Kyuubi attack? That's easier."

Suspicion sparked. "I'm asking the questions here, kid," Ibiki growled. "Not you."

 _Well, yes, but-_ "I need to know so I can give proof," I explained staunchly. "Or, well…" I tilted my head, reconsidering, "…technically, I don't. But it would take a lot longer." My gaze slid to the other man, who was hanging back warily ( _blonde-blue eyes-no pupil-Yamanaka-mind walk-efficient)._ "Why don't you just get him to read my mind?"

Ibiki shook his head, face darkening further. _Damnit. Too fast._ "I don't think so. Why are you so eager to get out here?"

"Because I want to go _home_ ," I repeated, the first real hint of anger entering my voice. "Because this is a _prison cell,_ and I don't even know what's going on, and I've had enough of being terrified and confused."

Both men seemed taken aback by my frankness, but I didn't- _couldn't_ \- stop there.

"My name is Cara Trainor," I said, staring fixedly at the ceiling. _Don't think about it._ "I'm seventeen years old. I'm from another world- universe, dimension, _whatever_ – where chakra is fictional and the future of this place is documented as a story. Ask whatever you want, I don't care." I dropped my eyes back to Ibiki's, whose expression was a mixture of calculation and guarded alarm, and spread my arms as if to say _'do your worst'_.

"Like I said, I _just_ want to get home."

 _Even_ , I thought grimly, _if I have to rip this world's future off its rails to do so._

* * *

 ** _Second chapter done! Yay!_**

 ** _Please R &R. =)_**


	3. Like A Wolf, My Hackles Raised

**Warnings:** Some coarse language.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Naruto. Kishimoto and affiliated companies do.

 **A/N: This one's a bit short, sorry. It was originally longer, but then I had to split it and it just seemed right to end it here. Anyway, on with the story!**

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

You could almost hear the sound of my captors' minds whirring in the silence that followed. Blondie's jaw had dropped open – just a little, like he'd forgotten he needed to use his facial muscles to keep it shut. Ibiki… well, Ibiki's range of facial expressions were a little limited, in my personal opinion. There was angry, suspicious, and sadistic- and then there was the _thinking face._

This was the _thinking face._

After a few long seconds, Ibiki seemed to come to a decision. He leant forward again, right into my space- and I leant back to get away, because I was under absolutely no illusions that he was leaning in for a hug.

" _Prove it."_

And- _uh oh._ I'd known it would come to this, but somehow I was still unprepared. _What to say-time?-classified-can I tell?_ and, _do I know anything about Ibiki?-no-oh shit_ flashed through my mind simultaneously. Overwhelmed, I fell back on my previous conclusion.

"How long since the Kyuubi attack?" _Please, please, please-_

"…Twelve years," Ibiki revealed slowly, reverting his suspicious face.

 _Twelve years. Thank god._ I relaxed; if it had been any part of the timeline before the start of the series, I probably would have been stuffed. After being gutted and before being strung up on a pike. And- well. This was much preferred.

I drew in deep breath, enjoying it thoroughly – _hey_ , it could well have been my last – and found the answer on the tip of my tongue.

"The night of the Kyuubi attack," I started, "the Fourth's son was born. His wife, Kushina Uzumaki," Ibiki's eyes sharpened, and Blondie's bugged, "was the container on the Kyuubi, and… her seal was weakened by the birth-" I could see I was about to be interrupted, and rushed to finish, "-but it should have held. It _would have_."

My breath shuddered out- I hadn't even noticed I'd been holding it. "…Except, someone intervened." _Is it just me or is the temperature dropping in here-_

"His name- um, sorry, is he allowed to hear this?" I shot an awkward side-glance at Blondie.

"Hiro, out," Ibiki ordered without looking away. "Let the Hokage know he'll have a visitor."

(My heart leaped; I was going to see the Hokage? _Yes! Oh, thank god-)_

Reluctantly, and now looking all kinds of curious, Blondie- _sorry, Hiro-_ slipped out the door and closed it behind him.

"Go on."

I paused to gather myself.

"That man's name is Tobi, formerly Obito Uchiha… who… was presumed KIA after he was crushed in a rock-fall at Kannabi Bridge, during the Second Shinobi War."

I paused, watching him warily. _Holy shit,_ was I really doing this? _Can I trust him?_ Going out on a limb, I haltingly continued.

"He… used the Mangekyou Sharingan to control the Kyuubi," I pressed, "tore it from Kushina's seal and… compelled it to attack Konoha. The Uchiha Clan were _not to blame_." I closed my eyes, feeling sick. _Gods_ , on a computer screen the massacre seemed so far away. "It was on Danzō's orders that they stayed out of the fight, Danzō's suspicions that… lead to their isolation, and… it was Danzō who directly defied the Sandaime and… blackmailed Itachi Uchiha into… killing them, though… he was helped by a third party- I… can't remember who."

 _And-_ all of a sudden I couldn't breathe.

It was like the very air was turning solid, I couldn't- _but-_ "Sasuke," I forced out. "He's- if he hasn't already… at the Chunin Exams he's going to- Orochimaru-", _breathe, goddamnit-I'm scared-I'm scared-cold-numb-_ _ **acknowledge and conquer**_ _-_ _ **BREATHE-**_

"Breathe," Ibiki commanded, and I reacted without thought, by instinct. Drawing on the cool assertiveness in his voice, I drew in a shuddering breath, centred myself, focused, and drowned the fear out.

Finally, my heart rate slowed to a manageable level.

"…Sir," I acknowledged shakily, head bowed, and when I spoke next my voice was almost- _almost-_ even, but mostly blank, "Orochimaru is going to give Sasuke his curse seal, like Anko's, but- different. More complicated. Kakashi will teach him Chidori-"

"That's enough."

Unbidden, my eyes jerked up, but when I realised it was tears that were prickling them, I ducked my head again. _Gods,_ this was _\- I shouldn't be-I need. Control. Get control._ _ **Conquer**_ _._

"That's enough," Ibiki repeated lowly. He moved stiffly, removing a pair of seal-engraved handcuffs from his belt. Wordlessly, I held out my hands, and he cuffed them- not roughly, but with the air of one unaccustomed to being gentle – and I stood placid, allowing him to test my bonds and then blindfold me.

It was in my nature to be ruthless when threatened.

On an ordinary day, I was, I thought, a very agreeable person. (I didn't like drama. Drama made things more complicated, and normal life was complicated enough.) But this was _not_ an ordinary day. Indirectly, the circumstances and whoever was behind it all were _threatening my people. My_ mum, _my_ dad, _my_ brother, _my_ friends- hell, even my _neighbours_. If I didn't get back to them, they were as good as dead to me. And like a wolf defending her pack, my hackles raised.

While Ibiki escorted me in silence, my mind folded itself into a defensive corner. Panic was my enemy.

So I forced down the panic.

I wove anger and logic and mindless obedience into an impenetrable shield.

And I breathed deeply, in… and out… in… and out…

* * *

 **Please read and review. =)**


	4. Did You Know?

**Warnings:** Science babble: read at your own risk.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Naruto. Kishimoto and affiliated companies do.

 **A/N: Okay, so that took a bit longer than I thought it would... and the next chapters probably will too, since I'm going back to school tomorrow. =( I learnt the hard way with my last fanfiction not to push myself to meet a certain word count or update schedule, so it'll probably be a bit sporadic from now on. Anyway. Read and enjoy.**

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

"Did you know," I asked the hallway in general, disregarding that there was only myself and Ibiki present, "that breathing out slower than you breathe in triggers the parasympathetic nervous system? It slows heart rate, increases intestinal and gland activity, _and_ relaxes muscles in the gastrointestinal tract! It's very good for getting to sleep, or for calming down after a panic attack. I actually haven't had a panic attack in years! Last time was-"

"Did you know you talk too much?" Ibiki countered dryly, cutting off my rambling.

I blinked under my blindfold. "Do I?" Briefly, I considered this, and decided that, "Huh, I do, don't I? Sorry about that."

We walked in silence for a while after that, occasionally passing condensed patches of air that I dodged without any input from Ibiki, who was technically guiding me.

"Hey, sir," I started again, a little more subdued, "do you think I'll be able to get home?" _I_ thought I'd be able to get home, but maybe I was just being overly optimistic again.

Of course, if I'd wanted reassurance, Ibiki was… not the ideal person to ask.

"I think you've got bigger problems to worry about, kid," he advised, moving his hand from my shoulder to grip the back of my neck, which- _eep!_ I flinched, hunching my shoulders instinctively to try to brush him off.

"Not the neck!" I squawked, shoulders almost up to my ears. "Gosh darn it, feels like my skin's frigging crawling off!" I shuddered and shook myself like a dog, trying to chase off the sensation of icy spiders climbing my spine.

Ibiki, the _ass_ , put his hand right back on, and started pushing me forcefully forward. _Gah._

"…I'm touch-repulsed, okay?" I whined, hunching miserably. "This is cruel and unusual punishment…"

 _Then again_ , _Ibiki_ is _the Head of Torture and Interrogation,_ I allowed. "Aaand, I probably shouldn't have told you that, should I?"

Ibiki didn't reply, so I fell into silent musing again.

An indefinite amount of time passed – in which I peacefully contemplated multiple aspects of my own psychology in relation to MBIT personality type, lack of sleep, and potential insanity – while I trotted along at a steady pace. A number of times, I _felt_ other people passing by, so near-soundless that I could barely make out the whisper of cloth over the sound of my own breathing and that annoying sticky noise that always happened when you walked barefoot.

( _Side note: my feet are cold…)_

"What I don't understand," I began abruptly, "is what the _motive_ behind this is."

More than anything – more than the Naruto world come to life, more than the yet-unsolved mystery of how exactly I resembled a human bomb (and _no_ , I hadn't forgotten that) – the question niggling at the back of my mind was, simply, _why?_

"Why _me_?" I asked, continuing my train of thought aloud. "Why _now_? What does… whoever did this hope to _achieve?_ " If my hands hadn't been cuffed in front of me, I would have been gesticulating wildly.

"I mean- well, there's three options, I guess. Either they want to help you – in which case they _definitely_ should have brought someone else. You know, I never actually _watched_ the show, I just…" I shrugged awkwardly, "read a lot. Wouldn't they have been better off kidnapping, like, a hardcore fan- or, heck _, Kishimoto?"_

 _No,_ I decided, "It doesn't make sense. So that leaves… intent to harm or random accident."

Ibiki was silent. For all I knew, he'd already figured this out and was ignoring me. But, _hey,_ I was discussing this for my own benefit, not his.

"For the former, _how?_ Unless we're talking me getting captured by some… enemy nin, and getting tortured for info – which would definitely suck, just saying, let's avoid that- and… what was I saying?"

Attention span of a teaspoon, yes. For a moment, I actually stopped walking, until a firm shove on my neck pushed me forward. Half distracted, I cast around in my mind. _Three reasons-harm-incapable-_ ah, that was right.

"I'm a _civilian_ ," I emphasised, trying to explain without gestures how very much this was _not_ making sense. "Okay, so I can fight, a bit, but that's just taekwondo- eh, taijutsu," I clarified offhandedly. "One little fireball and I'd be…" _appropriate analogy for dead-burnt-blackened-crusty-chicken!_ "…roast chicken."

But, _no…_ "Maybe I'm looking too far," I said, changing tracks. "Maybe they think if… that me telling you about…" _stuff-future-things-no good word, eugh-_ "…things… works in their favour somehow." _Motivation?_ I wondered. "Someone who-" _was on the losing side in the anime_ "-lost. Before. But how would they know to change things? And who would…" _be able to do this?_

 _Madara,_ I thought instantly. Madara had space-time jutsu. _Pein,_ _Obito-Tobi, Itachi (but... good side- to aid Konoha?), Kagu-name?-horns-pale-rinnegan-myth-mother of?-_

It could have been anyone with Sharingan or Rinnegan, and possibly even without either of them. I just couldn't remember enough of canon to recall whether or not people without those eyes could- _wait-Minato-Hirashin-seals-any seal master-seal?-_ _ **MUST CHECK ALLEY!**_

I twitched nervously, nearly vibrating with the sudden need to sprint to the alley where I'd woken up and search for seals. Why was I wasting time here? _I could be home by now! I just need-_

 _No-_ I managed to get a grip on myself and re-evaluated the situation – _bad idea-not possible-ninja-fast-strong-cuffs-tunnels-will get lost-Ibiki-_ I had a sudden mental image of Ibiki's heavy scowl _-mad-less likely to help-better this way-_ _ **patience**_ _-eugh-_ _ **fine.**_ With the faintest pout, I allowed myself to be led onward without protest.

(In the privacy of my mind, I entertained myself by imaging scenarios in which I made a run for it, heedless of the consequences. They were incredibly satisfying.)

…

By the time we stopped walking, I'd almost- _almost-_ gotten used to the weight of Ibiki's hand on my neck. As long as he didn't move it. And I didn't think about it too much.

(It still kind of creeped me out.)

"Ibiki," a wizened old voice greeted, and then my blindfold was slipped off, leaving me blinking like a newborn faun in the watery sunlight. "And our mysterious guest."

 _Oh,_ I preened, _'mysterious guest', I like it._

And then-"Wow," I said, blinking for an entirely different reason. _Wow._

Without permission, my feet took me to the window, big floor to ceiling ones that let in all this lovely natural light and had _the most gorgeous view_ I'd ever seen. The anime didn't do it justice; Konoha was like a rainforest in full bloom. The houses were simple, Japanese-style villas with red tile roofs, and the streets were just beaten dirt.

But the _trees!_ God, the trees!

In that moment, I very much sympathised with the Lorax, poor guy: trees were a beautiful, beautiful thing to be protected and cherished and _oh my god_ I needed a picture of this, _why_ was my phone in a different dimension?

 _But-_ I sighed happily. "It's _real_. It's really real…"

I made no attempt to hide the raw wonder in my voice, the hint of childish glee that came with being a fangirl somehow, ridiculously, _totally improbably_ standing in the fictional world I'd grown to love.

 _And, gods,_ "…This is _awesome!"_ I exclaimed, spinning to face the room with an undoubtedly absurd grin and words spilling over my lips as I fought to hold in the high-pitched squealing of my inner metahysicist.

"I can't believe I'm actually _here!_ Just- what are the _odds?!_ This shouldn't even be _possible!_ I'm- _Jesus,_ I'm _breaking the laws of physics_ , here! I mean, I know there's all the Multiverse theories- bubble theory, parallel theory, infinity theory-" I knew I was babbling and _I don't even care_ "-and Murphy's law, and stuff like the Kardashev Scale, 'cept that's not directly relevant, but- _gods._ "

I had to stop there to breathe, unfortunately.

"This is- amazing," I finished helplessly. "There are no words to explain-"

All of a sudden, I had an awkward recollection of the situation. "…Um. Sirs."

Here I was, having a total fangirl moment in front of a professional torturer and the most important guy in the village. I smiled sheepishly.

"…Hi?"

* * *

 **A/N: So much science babble... this is heaven. XD**


	5. Snake's Tongue

**Warnings:** None?

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Naruto. Kishimoto and affiliated companies do.

 **A/N: The plot thickens... ;)**

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

The silence stretched, and stretched… and stretched-

Then, without warning, the Hokage began to chortle – deep, full-bellied laughs like my grandpa always used to give when telling his awful, terrible dad-jokes around the Christmas tree. I couldn't help but join in with a relieved giggle.

 _(Um,_ my brain attempted to recalibrate to make sense of the new situation. _Okay?)_

"Goodness me," he sighed. "It _does_ warm an old man's heart to see youngsters taking an interest in the mysteries of the world. Although I can't say I've heard of many of those. Perhaps you'll take the time to explain after we've had certain other discussions?"

The implication took a moment to commute.

"You mean- you _believe_ me?" I blurted. "Does that mean you know how I got here? Can I get home? …Sir," I tagged on belatedly. _God,_ butit felt weird calling people that outside of taekwondo.

His smile faded. "I'm afraid I can't say," he told me with an apologetic smile. "There are, of course, specialists examining the scene of your arrival. However, as of yet… there has been no sign of a cause."

My heart sank to my toes.

"No seals?" I tried, not really expecting an answer. "No… weird chakra pulses? No break-in alarms? Break- _outs_? Odd history in the area? Suspects?"

The Sandaime slowly shook his head. "Nothing, I'm afraid. Sensors have swept the area, multiple times, to no avail."

"What about… the last time?" I turned to Ibiki, latching on desperately to my last clue. "The Iwa thing. Human bomb. You said I was like that," I pressed. " _How_ am I like that? Who was it?"

Ibiki pursed his lips, glancing at the Hokage, who nodded permission.

"It's not a matter of who," he said shortly. "We haven't been able to identify the perpetrator. But the two of you share a defining characteristic."

"And… what's that?" I asked warily. A list of possible ideas ran through my mind- _European looks? An accent? Sparkly writing on a t-shirt?-_ and were discarded immediately. _Too vague, Ibiki has the same accent as me, and… sparkles-_ _ **really?**_

He shook his head wordlessly, looking, for the first time since he'd entered my cell, utterly perplexed.

"You…"

"You appear to… lack chakra," the Hokage finished delicately.

"I _what?_ " I said, baffled. "But…" _don't people_ need _chakra to live?_ When I voiced this thought, the Sandaime nodded gravely.

"Indeed. Every living thing – human, summon, tree – requires chakra to exist. That has been one of the basic laws of nature for as long as history can recall."

"Then… how come…?" _How come I'm not dead?_ Was the first thought that came to my mind, but that brought up other questions, like, "Does that mean everyone from my world is like that? No chakra?"

But- _Not enough data._ I frowned.

Suddenly, I really wanted to get on Narutopedia and/or Youtube and study the theory. There _had_ to be some kind of explanation for this – or at least, more background data so that I could puzzle out the solution myself. But… there was no internet here. _Damnit._

"…Right. So what's the plan?" I asked in an effort to distract myself.

"The plan?" The Hokage repeated, raising a grey old-man eyebrow.

"Yeah, the _plan_. What happens next? What are you going to do with me?" I stretched my aching wrists as far as I could, and cracked my toe joints restlessly. "Back in the cell? Out on the streets? Stashed in a handy secret hideout for interdimensional guests?"

Wistfully, I glanced back out the window. Was this going to be the last time I saw it?

Ibiki cleared his throat. "Hold up, kid. There's something that needs to happen first." Before I could puzzle over what _that_ meant, he continued pointedly, "Why don't you tell Sandaime-sama what you told me back in that cell, _hmm?_ "

"Oh!" _Of course._ Sheepishly, I realised that I'd somehow expected the Hokage to know already, like he omniscient or something. Which was stupid. Despite the crystal seeing ball thing.

"Um, so… what do you want to know?"

"What can you tell me?" The Hokage shot back calmly.

"Um." I hadn't really thought about this. "A lot?"

He huffed a laugh. "Is that so? Well I suppose you could start at the beginning."

Pushing down distracting thoughts of a certain musical and inappropriate moments to break out in song, I smiled awkwardly. "It's, ah. Not exactly chronological. More like random knowledge about certain people and organisations that… might be bad for my continued state of living?"

There went the eyebrows again. "You believe this knowledge places you in danger."

 _Um,_ _ **duh**_ _, but- OH FUCK!_

Okay, so it had suddenly just occurred to me that I'd been _this close_ to blurting potentially civil war-causing Root-and-Danzo secrets to the Hokage - _right in front of maybe-possibly hidden Root ANBU_. Who might then proceed to follow me when I left, wait until I fell asleep, and slit my throat. And then possibly burn my corpse for good measure.

 _Oh. My. God. Too close. TOO CLOSE._

But I was a good actor. I shrugged, making sure to smile sheepishly and shift my weight from foot to foot like I was embarrassed about being called out on it.

"Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a bit. It's not that bad. I hope." _It's THAT bad._ "You ninja guys just make me paranoid, ya know? Always feels like someone's hanging over my shoulder but when I look there's no one there." I laughed lightly, shaking my head. "Don't mind me."

Then I played my ace card.

Back when I was a kid and still went to a co-ed school, I used to be friends with this group of total weirdos. And in the age-old tradition of prepubescent boys, they spent their lunch times holding – you guessed it – burping and farting competitions.

 _(It seemed funny at the time, okay?)_

Anyway, I, being the competitive little know-it-all I was, was not content with holding the record for most burps in a row. No, I developed a trick of my own.

At that moment, my stomach let out a loud burble, and I winced- but subtly, like I was trying to hide it. _"Oh, great,"_ I mumbled. _Stage-mumbled._

"Um, so, the start!" I threw myself into the act, loudly. "So, timeline-wise, has Naruto's class graduated yet?"

(The trick was to make the deception obvious; anyone with a brain and ears could see it was an act. But _obviously_ I was just embarrassed about my stomach, right?)

"They have." He peered at me over his desk. "I am curious to know how this is of relevance, however."

I tried to wave him off, realized I still couldn't move my arms, and ended up just bobbing awkwardly on the spot. "Butterfly effect, you know," I said airily, hopping from one foot to the other. "Don't wanna destroy the world by accident."

"Anyway, you remember Mizuki? I think he's in… uh, correctional prison now, right?" _That was canon, wasn't it?_ "Ah, he's gonna break out at some point. Somehow. I never actually watched that episode. But, uh, he's a total Orochimaru fanboy. Seal and all." I nodded to myself. "So yeah, it makes him super strong…"

I continued rambling on in this manner for a minute or so, adding anecdotes about Anko's seal and various experiments of Orochimaru's that I remembered reading about. Every now and again, I'd pause to take a breath, and my stomach would grumble noisily, slowly increasing in volume.

Finally, the stage was set.

"And I think I read something about a mission… his teammate had, like, a knee injury or something?"

 _Grumble-grumble._

"And Mizuki thought it would slow him down, so he killed him and faked the mission report-"

 _Bubble-ble-ble…_ _ **glub**_ _._

"But Orochimaru was there, a-

 _ **B-GLUB-B-b.**_

"-nd, _oh my god,_ I'm so sorry, IthinkI'mgonnabe _sick_ -"

Staggering into the desk, I doubled over it and retched convincingly into the paper bin.

"I'm-" retch "- _so_ sorry! _Oh god_ \- _ah-argh_ …"

"Ibiki, take her to the bathroom," the Hokage ordered.

Screwing up my face to hide my victorious grin, I let my head hang and stumbled away with Ibiki's tight grip on my arm.

He was less than gentle this time.

When he finally shoved me through an unlabelled door in the hallway, I pulled away and met his gaze seriously.

' _Soundproof?'_ I mouthed, and he jabbed at diamond-shaped seal on the wall, which unravelled, inked symbols seeping up through the plaster until the entire wall was covered in them. Then he turned back, expression thunderous.

"What are you playing at, kid?" He growled, shaking me roughly. His grip was bruising, and the doorjamb was digging into my left shoulder blade, but I didn't have a chance of moving him. "I know you're not sick, and if you think you've got the Hokage fooled, think again."

 _Well, so much for that plan._

My eyes narrowed; I didn't take well to threats. "Good thing I wasn't trying to fool you," I bit out, but- _what am I doing_ ,there was no _time_ for this- "ANBU is compromised."

Immediately, Ibiki stilled. "By who?" He demanded.

I set my jaw, and his eyes narrowed in response. "Root."

"Root was disbanded years ago."

"Said who?"

Ibiki started to speak, then stopped. He stared. I stared back.

 _Danzo._

"Danzo," I agreed with his unspoken conclusion. "Danzo, who poured _decades_ of time and resources into Root, has previously defied the Hokage's orders, and has every motivation to retain power in secret."

"…Their headquarters were raided," he pointed out after a tense moment. "We left nothing."

I shrugged. "Who says they had only one? Also, for all we know, members of that raid could have been Root themselves."

That was the crux of the matter. How could you trust anyone, when the ones you trusted to, well, _be trustworthy,_ might be the very ones working against you?

Ibiki cursed and released me, pacing like a caged tiger along the line of sinks. "How can I trust you on this?" He demanded. "For all I know this is just an elaborate ploy to sow dissension in the ranks."

I felt momentarily affronted- but it was a reasonable point. "It's not," I swore earnestly. "Look, if it helps, all the Root members have a seal on their tongue. Like this."

Blowing on the mirror until my breath fogged up the glass, I drew the symbol that I – with my usual talent for remembering utterly random trivia that had a one-in-a-million chance of being useful in real life – recalled from a picture on the Root Narutopedia page: three parallel lines, then four more half-sized lines – two on each side with a gap down the middle.

The completed image looked eerily similar to a snake's forked tongue.

"…It's a secrecy seal," I explained, awkwardly, when the silence stretched and Ibiki appeared lost in thought. "It-"

"I'm familiar," he cut me off. "A member of my squad has it."

* * *

 **A/N: Read and review! =)**


	6. There's a Storm Coming

**Warnings:** None?

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Naruto. Kishimoto and affiliated companies do.

 **A/N: Bit short, but what can you do?**

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

"Well, _shit_ ," I said honestly. That about summed up the situation.

Ibiki grimaced. "I'll deal with it," he dismissed brusquely. "Let's go."

He grabbed my arm and began frog-marching me to the door.

"Wait- what?" I protested, digging my feet in. "Hold up! What am I supposed to say? We haven't figured out what we're-"

" _I_ am going clean up _your_ goddamn mess. _You,_ on the other hand, are gonna keep your head down and your mouth shut."

 _Excuse me?!_ Fuming, I opened my mouth to spit back a reply, but _(wait-don't-no rash actions lead to_ _ **(mistakes -more problems-chaos-regret)!**_ _Stop-think first)_ at the last moment thought better and gritted my teeth instead. _Yes sir,_ I conceded bitterly, injecting the thought with so much venom it was practically dripping. On the outside, my expression returned to stiff-necked neutrality.

Orders were orders, I justified to myself. Orders were absolute.

Ibiki flicked the soundproofing back off, then glanced back at me. He smirked.

"Oh, and one more thing-"

 _C-RUNCH!_

Reeling back, I doubled over, blood streaming from my nose as it sent deep, throbbing bursts of pain through my face and neck. My wrists strained to break free of their bonds.

" _F-fuck!_ " I choked, and snapped my head up to narrow watery eyes at Ibiki, who stood impassive, as though he hadn't just _broken my fucking nose. (What-why-hurts-broken-mirror?-why? WHY, FUCK YOU?!)_

"The _fuck_ was that?!"

Part of me knew there would be a reason. Ibiki wasn't the sort to do things for no reason. _(Right? RIGHT?-calculated wrong?-_ _ **NO-**_ _possible-reasons?-none-none-none-can't think-_ _ **hurts**_ _)_

The other part of me bared my teeth and snarled, gutturally, like a wild animal.

Ibiki's lip curled. "Every person in that room has _decades_ of experience on you, _girl_. Your acting is shit."

Indignation flared- _but_ _what if it's true?_ What if my overconfidence had just thrown us all in jeopardy?

Suddenly, I felt very small.

"…Sir," I said dully, letting my head hang so I could hide behind my fringe.

…

"Ah, Ibiki," the Hokage repeated blithely, as I was lead back into his office. He made no comment about the blood that had spilled past the corner of my mouth and was trailing red down my neck. My split lip stung, and I kept my eyes on the floor. "No problems, I take it?"

There was a line of deep scratches on the brown tiles, where some long forgotten altercation had forever marred the floor. I wanted to mimic them on Ibiki's face.

"The prisoner's had a change of heart," the scarred man drawled.

He'd broken my nose. He'd _fucking broken my nose._ It was broken and would never, ever be the same. What excuse was there for that? _(There's no fucking excuse!)_ Ibiki was _power-leader-older-authority-_ but was that an excuse? Was this his _right? To hurt-to harm-to main-to decide-to be judge-jury-executioner?_ What was I supposed to _do_ here?

The familiar line of questioning calmed me, let me sink into apathy again. Chased out the hurt. This was an objective situation. _Patience, logic, and_ _coopera- no_ _. Patience and logic._

The question, I identified confidently, was not what I was _supposed_ to do- rather, what _could_ I do? Which combination of actions would result in the achievement of my goal?

 _Goal: HOME_

 _(Home-safety-love-embrace-peace-warm-soft-safe-safe-safe-)_

 _Possibilities:_

 _One: stay silent, no matter what; and-_

I became stuck. There were too many possibilities. _Too much, too much-_ The circumstances could change in an instant. How could I possibly hope to identify every possible path the future could take? Just the idea of wrapping my head around that infinite web of _POSSIBLE_ had my eyes glazing with dizziness.

 _Can't-cannot think-think-think-_

I thought. _Two_ ; I needed to organise my thoughts. Two: w _ait-possibly speak-possibly not-must analyse-need more data._

"Has she indeed?" The Hokage was talking again. He peered at me over his desk, but now instead of comforting me, it just made me sick. I wanted to vomit for real.

 _God,_ I'd been such a _fool_ , I thought bitterly, seeing this whole world through rose-coloured glasses. Konoha was a military village – I'd _known_ this – and every person in this room, seen and unseen, was a trained killer.

Except me. Me and my fucking broken nose.

 _If only…_

 _(Something snapped._

" _ **She**_ _is in the room," I crooned with mocking sweetness, stepping right up to the desk. I looked him straight in the eyes, feeling the fierce thrill of freedom. "_ _ **She**_ _is a_ _ **person**_ _, with a_ _ **name**_ _, and fucking_ _ **human rights**_ _._ _ **She**_ _knows exactly when you're going to die, and_ _ **how**_ _, and_ _ **by who**_ _._ _ **She**_ _is fucking_ _ **pissed-**_ _")_

In my head, I was everything I'd ever wanted to be.

In reality, my jaw twitched, and the calluses on Ibiki's fingers sent shivers of a terror and disgust down my spine. I didn't move. I didn't make a sound.

"What can you tell me, my dear?"

Briefly, I thought about lying, about saying anything, anything at all. Whatever it took to get out of this hellhole. Whatever it took.

I could do it.

 _But…_ "There's a lot I don't know," I began quietly. "I read… alternate versions of the story, written by… fans. What I do know… is mostly conjecture, a mixture of… correlation between stories, and articles… from an outside source." If Narutopedia could be called that. "Images, character profiles, mission summaries… etcetera."

I thought about what I wanted to say. What was relevant, what was important, what was accurate.

 _There's a storm comin', 'arry._

The thought brought a smile to my lips, twisted, sarcastic, dangling over the edge of deranged.

 _Oh, indeed._

"There's going to be an invasion during the Chunin Exams," I said, still smiling. Why had I ever been angry? This was funny. This was fucking _hilarious._ The Hokage looked alarmed, and I wanted to laugh.

"You're going to die."

* * *

 **A/N: Read and review! =)**


End file.
